Words

You find yourself late at night in a quiet room. There’s no one around; no movement, no noise, nothing to break time into small pieces. You are alone. And you begin to type words on a computer. While the entire world seems to dream, you type away all the dreams you have stored up in your heart. Slowly, maybe even painfully at times, you write all those dreams into existence. They take a different form… not quite alive, but not as dead as they feel when they’re trapped inside your mind.

And, at the same time, the night feels less lonely. You feel less lonely. The darkness that’s smashing against your windows, it’s not bothering you anymore. You are alone. You dream alone. Yet, in solitude you find what most of us never really find… yourself.

You are free to roam through a world of infinite possibilities, a world of immense hope. You are not living in the present, or dreaming about the future, you are not being haunted by the past. It’s not this world you’re inhabiting, but you are building a new one. A world that could never exist, and you know it, yet you hope it might… someday.

There are a thousand voices inside your head, screaming to be heard, begging to be set free. It’s magic, and it’s a kind of magic only you can experience, because it wouldn’t make much sense to anyone else. It’s not pretty, it’s not easy or fast, it’s not even supposed to be.

Because that magic gets translated when your story finds a reader. And that’s when they see what magic is all about. Because, odds are that they are alone as well. If not, your story builds a barrier between them and the rest of the world. Yet they do not feel lonely.

In those moments, as the real world becomes but a shadow, two people are sharing the same dream, the same vision. They share more than we could ever hope to share with another human being. They share parts of their souls that we’d never allow anyone else to see.

That’s beauty like you’ll never experience it again. That’s magic, real magic… because only magic can make you feel like there’s someone else, out there, who dreams and thinks about the same things as you do, who sees the world in the same way, or asks the same questions.

Beautifully written. I’ve been writing in lots of forms for a while but the writing that may or may not one day become ‘my book’ is the one where I feel the magic happen, it’s like therapy when my soul is weary, it’s where my happiest memories flood out on ‘good days’, it’s where I counsel my children with complete openness and where I re-learn time and again from my shortcomings and trials.

“That’s magic, real magic… because only magic can make you feel like there’s someone else, out there, who dreams and thinks about the same things as you do, who sees the world in the same way, or asks the same questions.” Yes! Where IS this person? I’ve been searching…searching.

Now that I am working professionally as a writer, I don’t really experience the solitude of writing at night anymore since I have to do most of it in the office. Sometimes I bring some of my work home, but when that happens, I write with my smartphone while in front of the TV or while waiting for my dinner to cook.

A beautiful read. This portrays exactly how I feel when writing, especially during the late hours of the night and into the early morning. For me there is something special about writing at a time when everyone else is asleep, everything is calm. Also I like the idea of writing before dawn because i like to think that all the good ideas haven’t been taken yet, everyone is still asleep. A good fine Ale is also a nice touch to the evening of solitude and mental gymnastics. Nicely done.

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